


Enough for People, Enough for Gods and Monsters

by Angeltigerdragon, SDSlanderson



Category: Justice League: Gods and Monsters (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:57:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeltigerdragon/pseuds/Angeltigerdragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDSlanderson/pseuds/SDSlanderson
Summary: What do the gods fear most? Surely nothing is challenging to them.What does a monster fear? He evokes fear.And yet, they play gay chicken.





	1. Warrior Bride

The tower reminds Bekka of the cruder designs in Old Genesis before the High Father’s age. She looked at them when she was young with her cousin Scott as they learned of New Genesis history and structures. She looks down out of the high windows. The protesters gather like ants. The people stare up at them and know their power. It is just like the beginning of New Genesis-the gods above and everyone below.

She comes out of her melancholic reverie when she smells burning….?

               

“Dios Mios! Kirk! Get the hell out!”

Bekka arrives sword at the ready to a scene from a sitcom. Hernan stands in an apron fanning something on the stove top while Kirk is putting out the fire on his apron. She laughs long and hard.

                “I-“ Kirk starts.

                “Save it,” Hernan barks. His face is pouting as he dumps whatever the burnt husk is into the trash and goes to wash the good pan. Bekka stops laughing. Tension fills the room as Kirk fidgets in the corner staring at Hernan’s back. “I told you to call me when it started to sizzle,” Hernan says.

                “The process seemed simple enough that I-”

                “Process.” Hernan spins around facing them. His face is a mirror of their first confrontation with Waller. “This _picadillo_ dish has been in my family for three generations. Each cook with their own variation and new spice. There is no process, _Kirk._ It is a gut feeling on when to add onions, _chayote,_ or lower the flame. If I hadn’t needed cumin we would be enjoying a nice meal right now. Not a pile of ashes and a new apron to buy.”

Hernan stops and spins back to cleaning. Bekka bites the bottom of her lip. She looks to Kirk. It is one of the few times he does not wear his head gear. She knows he was fresh out of college when he transformed but she is amazed how young he looks right now head bowed. Kirk takes off the apron and neatly places it on the rack of aprons they have. He leaves out where Bekka is and she hears a small despairing squeak from him. Bekka sheathes her sword and leans against the doorframe left hand on her left hip.

She waits a beat before saying something.

                “That was harsh. Thought he was your number one.”

Hernan sighs. He puts the clean pan on the drying pad.

                “Kirk can do many things. Cooking is not one of those things.”

                “And yet, this is the third time I’ve caught you letting him help,” she says. Bekka looks at Hernan expectantly. He does not take the bait. “All I’m saying is from old flames who have been coming here in “support,”’ she uses air quotes. “They all mention how you helped them with things. Like cooking, sewing, laundry. Women’s work.” Bekka shrugs.

Hernan hangs his apron on the rack.

Bekka groans.

                “You said we’re not anything but friends with benefits,” Hernan says. He faces her, finally.

                “I prefer fuck buddies, short and sweet, but come on. You didn’t care for all those women and I know you believe you’re some sort of chivalrous knight. We’ve been stuck together in this tower for three weeks now almost a month by Wednesday and I’ve seen you hover around Kirk daily. Along with providing blood from the Source knows where.”

Hernan’s face is impassive. He stands like those statues of New Genesis. Proud and unbreakable unless enough force is used. Bekka readies herself again.

                “What do you insinuate, Bekka? Why are you only now bringing this up? You are my equal. Of course I would not treat you less but I know you do not need _my_ help.”

                “Nothing, just I happen to read body language pretty well. You weren’t mad at Kirk. You weren’t mad at all; you were frightened because he was on fire,” Bekka says. No blow comes from Hernan. She continues. “We’re equals in every way Hernan. I liked being with Steve because he was an anchor for me. That’s why I still talk to him and not my other exes,” Bekka admits.

Hernan smirks. “You still care for him.”

                “Shove it up yours, Guerra. What I’m saying is you’ve known Kirk longer than me, even saved his life from what I gather, and…just the way you’re around him. It’s different from me. More…protective.”

She waits for a sign, anything of Hernan’s eventual revelation. He walks out passing her.

                “Men,” she groans. “Maybe I should try shedding this light on Kirk.”

 

Bekka goes to talk to Kirk, however they are called away to fight against what looks like lizard people. Yes, lizard people from the earth’s core. Bekka thinks of the protesters and what that reporter, Lane something, talks about them being the aliens. This world has its own secrets for the Source’s sake. They fight with little worry. Apparently the son of the king had it on a dare he could take over the surface world. By the end, there is little damage and the whole ordeal is more amusing then terrifying.

She remembers later about talking to Kirk. The Batman has disappeared when she and Hernan resurface from the earth’s core.

                “Where’d he go?” she asks Hernan.

Sadly, it is loud because Steve looks to them along with his crew of soldiers. Weapons are armed.

                “He has a place in Gotham,” Hernan says.

Steve looks at them, expecting more out of the man. Hernan flies off, not before flipping the bird.

                “You were obvious,” Bekka tells Steve.

                “Any and all info on Batman is classified rumors. We don’t really know the extent of his power or how many—”

                “Shut up, Steve.”

                “Just saying, your boyfriend’s probably the closest thing the Bat has to a friend.  The closest to him and the most trustworthy too,” Steve says. He smirks like he has her.

Bekka strikes back. “And if he heard what you’re _insinuating_ well I would count your blessings, Trevor.”

Steve blanches. Bekka smiles sweetly and flies off.

* * *

 

Bekka confronts Kirk once he reappears from his cave. And that is another two weeks.

                “Langstrom,” she says.

Kirk pauses in his tinkering on the screen. He turns to her his moves calculated. Everything Kirk does is methodical so he is one step ahead. Bekka read up on his file and those old articles of Gotham’s Vampire. And when the Bat stopped terrorizing-same year Superman came out on the scene.

                “We need to talk about you and Hernan,” she says.

Good news is that human emotions imbalance that methodical brain. Kirk’s facial muscles tighten for a bare second but that is the step Bekka needs to push past his walls.

                “I know there’s more to the story of how you two met,” Bekka says. “And that your friendship is much closer than the public truly knows.”

                “Hernan’s been like a brother to me,” Kirk says like a script. No inflection to his voice but Bekka sees a darkening to his cheeks. It is invisible to the human eye since Kirk’s transformation, but a new god has better eyes. “Besides, aren’t you two together?”

                “No. Outside of a good roll in the hay we don’t really do much couple things. In fact, I think he’s starting to get that I don’t do relationships.”

                “Trevor?”

                “A fling that lasted long. It happens. Just like friends becoming more happens,” Bekka says.

Kirk stares at her.

                “I never cared for subterfuge. I’ve always been more of a straight out guy,” Kirk says.

Bekka giggles on the inside at the use of “straight out.”

                “You’re trying to lead the conversation somewhere, about me and Hernan. I can reassure you that meeting between us has nothing more to it. He heard of the Batman and wanted to see it for himself. Found me on a dock at night with a rat in my mouth. Gave me an opportunity for a new life.”

                “But why follow him?” Bekka asks. “What difference did he make to you besides the others?”

There’s a twitch of Kirk’s left brow. Bekka realizes she is going into sensitive territory, but it could be the push she needs.

                “They had files on our previous actions. Hernan’s were well documented because of his choice. Mine were subtler but I gave them some clarity. Yours were secret. Though you did give them something. A run in with a mob family that you couldn’t deny. A Jeremy Moxon.”

In the next instant, Kirk stands in front of Bekka                nostrils flailing. His hands hover over her neck.

                “Hernan and I know. Him because well him. And me because I sweet talked a bureau stooge out of the filing room. It’s vague but from what I and the auditors gathered is that Moxon bribed or allied with you because of the death of his mother, and then the truth of Jeremy came out.” His lip twitches for a millisecond. Bekka treads carefully. “You killed him for whatever reason. There’s no proof of anything besides you being a hired killer for Moxon, but it was the only time you worked with anyone. Then Hernan, Superman, comes in and you follow him without question.” Kirk steps back. “Now choke that thought down and think on it, Langstrom. I’d suggest don’t take long if you’re the jealous type.”

Bekka leaves Kirk to stew. She prays he is smarter than Hernan.

* * *

 

Bekka’s been wrong in the past about mankind. They have been active for six months at this point and she is witness to concern for Kirk’s wellbeing from Hernan and the side glances Kirk gives him. Also, the scowl he can’t hide when Hernan flirts with Bekka. She does flirt back, but it’s fun. And perhaps, will make Kirk jealous enough to declare something.

Luthor is with them today and he is giving a lecture on the public’s current view of them. They are in the meeting room which like the rest of the tower is white and chrome.

                “As you can see by these charts,” the man begins. “You’re atrocious actions with the ForeverPeople and Imperiex in Europe and Africa have been downplayed if not forgotten by the general populace-thank smartphones for that-but most who pay attention feel the sting of the destruction you three can wrought on the planet.”

                “Like the protesters outside. Everyday. Including today,” Kirk says and points out the window.

The room is also lower so they can see the faces of the people. Well, Hernan can always see them, but Bekka is grateful for the distance. Being so close makes her uncomfortable.

                “They are within their rights to be here, Dr. Langstrom,” Luthor says. Kirk cringes. The records show that Kirk had an unfulfilled scholarship for his doctorate. A low blow for Luthor.

                “What is the point of this?” Hernan growls. He’s been quiet for the meeting. “We’ve helped with the relief of the cities and nations affected. More so than their governments. Bekka’s boomtubes have transported medicine and supplies desperately needed. I’ve rebuilt structures and Kirk’s been able to use his skills to capture the last of the ForeverPeople. The public is out there as mentioned throwing their contempt at us. But we’ve been good.”

                “The point, Superman, is not to act good for the damage you _three_ caused. The point is to understand why the people don’t love you.”

                “We were controlled by Imperiex,” Hernan says. His fist slams and the table breaks. Bekka grabs the hilt of her sword. “And that Lane woman wouldn’t be so adamant on demonizing us if her father was not one of the casualties in Mumbai.”

Luthor stares at them. He looks like he got the cream he wanted. Again.

                “That is the point, Superman. Empathy and compassion are lacking among the three of you, which is why love of the public is nigh impossible except in the long run if you last that is,” Luthor says. He leans on his cane.

Hernan does not speak. Instead, he gestures a “let’s go” with his head. Kirk follows not even glancing at Bekka. She stays behind. Perhaps….

                “Do you see it? Or am I the only one?” she asks Luthor.

                “You’re question depends on what you mean, Miss Bekka.” He presses a button and the door closes. “This room is one of the few where Superman’s hearing cannot penetrate. Speak plainly, Miss Bekka.”

                “The way Hernan gets whenever you ruffle Kirk about his past. Does that not scream overprotective?”

Luthor looks at her a stern expression on him.

                “Oh,” he says. His face relaxes. “You believe they are in love.”

                “I don’t believe it. I know it,” Bekka admits. “This is between us, Luthor.” She unsheathes her sword and points it at him. The man, infuriating, shrugs and sits in one of the chairs. “Fine. When we fought Imperiex Hernan tells the truth that he controlled us. It was from that mind control we were able to bring Imperiex down. We used that connection against him. Add the last shard of the Motherbox to do it and the three of us fighting as one bringing down my sword on that bastard.” She stops and prays Hernan does not hear this. “I lied to Kirk. I told him I felt an intimacy with Motherbox and Imperiex, but in truth I did not recognize either. Only that feeling, strong as it was could destroy the monster, and when the three of us held my sword I knew where that feeling originated. It was Hernan. I was feeling Hernan’s love. Powerful, protective, and possessive. Not for me though. I was confused until I realized its Kirk. We won against Imperiex because of Hernan’s love and will to save Kirk.”

Luthor does not say a word. He stands from his seat and leans on his cane. He presses the button again for the door to open.

                “Superman may have hope yet,” Luthor says.

He leaves.

* * *

 

_Someone’s screaming…begging her to do something. All she can feel is the tear in her mind….Mother box wails…and…someone catching her…._

_The person prods at her. Snippets come through: “…together……..Hernan……need…….”_

_Her mouth moves. A vibration in her throat. Words?_

_“Mother box needed me—and I….I failed her!” she sees Kirk kneeling in front of her, his mouth marred in worry lines. “All I have left is—is a single, cracked shard and—“_

_She stops. The shard and something else. Something fierce is calling her and the shard to act. To save the world._

**To Save Him.**

 

 

 

The problem is that Bekka’s patience thins to watch this gay chicken show for so long. It is quite sweet. The way Kirk listens to Hernan’s complaints without scoffing and how Hernan fabricates the fake plasma when Kirk gets too caught up in his work. There is also Hernan’s jealousy. It is subtle but it shows whenever Kirk is away at a “Will and Tina” place. Bekka doesn’t know who they are, but they seem to be the second closest people to Kirk. Hernan’s jaw tightens for the barest of seconds when Kirk brings them up.

And obviously, Kirk is jealous of Bekka. She’s using it against him. It is taking forever for him to do something.

* * *

 

Sunday is quiet. No calls for aid or the president asking them to “take care” of certain individuals. It is one of the few days they can sit and rest. Do some errands; for Bekka, she does her laundry.

They had cleaning staff. However, the last two cleaning ladies were double agents for Waller and before that the woman was so terrified of Kirk that Hernan fired her within a day.

 It is fine. They don’t take much space in the huge tower and Hernan cleans the building with super speed. He also cooks whenever they feel like sitting down to eat. Kirk does help sometimes with Hernan in the tower. Bekka keeps to her own chores and room. They have a chore wheel of dishes and trash, but it is mainly Hernan who does the grunt work.

She takes her clothes in two bundles and separates the delicates and whites. She puts the white to wash first.

                “Bekka,” Kirk says.

                “Hi,” she says.

He’s wearing track pants and a Gotham U t-shirt. Bekka wears similar attire except it is a full track suit and head band. In his arms is a small bundle of socks and underwear.

                “I didn’t take you for a brief man,” Bekka says.

                “They’re better for the suit. It gets hot.”

Bekka’s eyebrows raise. She keeps her mouth shut.

                “Hernan prefers boxers,” she meant to keep her mouth shut.

                “I know. We shared laundry.”

They stop and it is awkward. Kirk leaves his small bundle next to Bekka’s.

 

The day goes like that. Bekka catches Hernan in the kitchen cleaning out the fridge.

                “Are you bored?” he asks her.

                “No. It’s just one of those days where nothing happens,” she replies. “There aren’t many off days for us and I miss those days.”

                “To be normal or pretend to be normal, Bekka,” Hernan says.

                “Both.”

Bekka stares at his pajama clad back. Hernan goes for a flannel pant and stained white shirt. He completes the outfit with grey slippers. Bekka knows he hasn’t bathed today, but he never smells bad.

                “Do you want to try something new?” he asks standing up to turn to her.

                “Like what?” she asks.

                “We can dance. We’ve never done that.”

                “Sure,” she says.

 

Of course, Bekka’s made mistakes.

“Bekka, it is a simple two step,” Hernan grits out. Hernan’s veins are visible when she steps on his foot again. “You do not stare at the floor. You feel it.”

“I don’t feel anything when you won’t quit criticizing,” she growls.

“Bekka, your hands are limp,” Hernan replies.

They spin-attempt to spin-Bekka and she lands on the floor. Hernan offers her a hand.

                “Look, I don’t think the music’s much help,” she says.

The song belting in the boombox Hernan dug is a mariachi disaster to Bekka.

                “That, Bekka, is the famous Juan Gabriel. Mine and Mexico’s revered singer. He was considered the “Latin Elvis” and far succeeded that fat bumpkin in talent and song writing!” he finishes. Hernan grinds his teeth.

                “Sorry I don’t know this Gabriel person, but Hernan—” she stops. Hernan is on the other side of the room turning off the boombox. “Hernan, please. I’m….dammit. I’m sorry.”

                “It’s fine. Your laundry’s done. I heard it beep.”

He picks up the boombox.

                “I’ll be in the kitchen. I haven’t mopped or swept.”

Bekka sighs through her nose.

 

Back in the laundry room, she waits for Kirk to show up and get his load in; he never does. Bekka decides to find him. On the way to look for him she hears that music again. It is slower this time. A choir joins the chorus as Bekka heads back to the common area.

 There she finds both men dancing. Kirk follows Hernan perfectly in a type of waltz. Bekka watches enraptured. She realizes too another sings alongside Juan Gabriel. It’s Kirk. He’s singing along with the lyrics. He knows Spanish-Hernan taught him-but his voice astounds Bekka. It is fragile but strong. Not trained as she can discern. That makes it carry a weight.

Bekka goes off, not sure what will happen next but filled with a warmth she had thought lost to her past…to Orion.

* * *

 

_Bekka turns in the sheets. Simple cotton with the key bordered design in blue, much like the Grecian dress Bekka had on. She glances at her new lover(?)._

_The man appeared out of thin air it seemed._

_One minute, Bekka’s boomtube brought her to Mykonos, and then a handsome stranger floats down to meet her. His physique and charming smile caught her off-guard. He calls himself Superman._

_Bekka calls herself by the name earth has given her-Wonder Woman._

_They’ve spent the week together. Bekka knows nothing of him and he has not asked about her. He calls her his “princessa.” The bedroom is littered in their_ activities.

_She should be overjoyed to meet someone like her after so long. To have a man that is her equal. Bekka stares at the ceiling._

_Orion and his kind eyes haunt her._

_She shuts her eyes and thinks of Steve. Stupid, human, wonderful Steve. An asshole but an honest man._

_Bekka opens her eyes. She glances at Superman. His face is calm and he cuddles into the pillow._

_“…kir…” Superman calls for someone else. Like her._

_Bekka does not have a new lover._

_Bekka leaves the next day without regret._

* * *

 

She shouldn’t be surprised nothing came from that dance. No progression of their true feelings for one another. The days turn to weeks as the Justice League continues on its routine of “obey and eventually be loved.” Hernan flirts with her. They haven’t slept together in months. Kirk remains facing a screen pretending not to listen. Nothing’s changed.  She is disappointed.

 

The day comes where they attack another terrorist cell. As they float above the underground compound Bekka wonders _what is next_. She has little time when Hernan lasers an entrance in the ceiling and they enter the lion’s den.

                “How long has this been here?” she asks, sword unsheathed.

                “Too long,” Hernan says.

Then the bullets start. The Justice League has a job to do. 


	2. Lonely Scientist

_The rat’s not enough. He’ll have to hunt more, but later. Now he must feed before the dock workers come in a few hours. He sniffs it before turning. He knows there’s a presence in the docks with him. He cannot hear this being or what it is-strange, foreign-but it is powerful. He spins in his crouch ready to pounce the being._

_Kirk falls back on his haunches to see the Superman floating above him. A squeak escapes muffled by the rat. Surprisingly, he does not drop the rat in his mouth._

_“You are the Batman. Some reason I could not help but imagine more of a chupacabra humanoid.” Superman smirks._

_That’s when Kirk drops the rat. A surge of intense hate and welled up thoughts of-no don’t say_ his _name-swells in his chest. Kirk growls like the beast he is and lunges high in the air at this mocking creature._

_He never reaches his quarry. A split second and the Superman is sitting beside Kirk who realizes belatedly that the alien had captured him mid-lunge and sat him down on a crate._

_“No need for that, amigo. I am here to simply arrange a mutual partnership between us. Nothing more nothing less. Understand?”_

_Kirk stares at him mouth gaping._

_Superman’s brow furls. “Do you speak English?” Kirk does not answer. “Amigo. Hables Español? Tambien. Es mi lengua materna.”_

_Kirk’s had only two years high school Spanish and all they did was watch “Lion King” in Spanish._

_Superman catches on._

_“No Español. Okay. Uhm, tu parle Francais?”_

_When Kirk does not respond Superman nods. He tries three more languages one Kirk is sure he’s never heard until the alien gives up._

_“Are you mute? Deaf?” Superman stares at Kirk confused. “I know you’re not some beast in human form. Those attacks on the mobs and others are too calculated. Look, just nod if you understand.”_

_Superman motions the nod with a big smile. It looks stupid._

_“You look stupid,” Kirk says. His voice is croaky from silence._

_“So, you can talk? And you’ve let me sit to make an ass of myself for the last, oh, twenty minutes.”_

_“I don’t socialize much,” Kirk says._

_That makes Superman laugh. A long hearty laugh. It reminds Kirk of Will and Tina. He laughs a bit. The vibrations hurt his chest for the moment. How long has it been since he laughed?_

_“I can tell we’ll be excellent together, amigo,” Superman says after a bit, tears pooled in his eyes._

_Kirk sees them for the first time. Blue. A nice shade of blue._

_“But, until then as a show of good faith take this.”_

_From the cloak emerges a blood bag; a pint of fresh human blood for him to take and feed._

_“Here,” Superman shoves it into his hands. “I’ll be back when you are more sociable.” He smirks. Bastard._

_Superman floats off the crate and ascends to the night sky. Kirk watches him go. The man stops and spins to face Kirk._

_“I am Hernan Guerra.”_

_“Kirk,” he says. “My name’s Kirk. Kirk Langstrom.”_

_“Good to meet you, Dr. Langstrom.”_

_Superman smiles and flies away. Later, Kirk ponders on why he used that title._

_He was embarrassed to find out after a few years that Hernan had talked to Luthor who figured what happened to the star student with lymphoma cancer and a search for a cure._

* * *

 

Kirk bites his tongue at the saucy look Hernan throws Bekka. He can feel the tanginess of blood, but what does he care. There’s Bekka smiling back at Hernan as if a secret lies between them. Kirk turns away to stare at his screen. He still has the acrid taste from the terrorist-codename Blockbuster-stuck in his mouth. His own blood is preferable.

Hernan asks him a question.

                “22% domestically. 29% worldwide.”

                “Revolutions have been built on less…” and then the man goes into his spiel about ruling the world. Kirk admits to himself it is a nice idea. They could clean up a lot of the drudgery going on in the world. Though he like Hernan knows they will never do it.

Hernan is too much a layman despite his advances. He cares too much for what others strive for; that’s why he would never rule the world. Kirk too is too set in his introverted ways to pretend he cares for the petty squabbles of dominion. Bekka is the only one with experience on ruling, but she has no drive for it.

None of them are mad enough nor do they truly believe this shop talk. But, it is a pleasant conversation ice breaker.

Kirk comes back into the fold when he hears “under us” from Bekka.

Hernan smirks. It is very hot in the room.

                “Under us,” he repeats.

                “You just got less sexy,” Bekka says and walks off.

Kirk’s fists loosens. He notices a nervous man on the monitors. Thank God for perfect timing.

                “The new world order will have to wait. Your appointment’s here,” Kirk calls out.

Hernan leaves and he can breathe. Until his nostrils flare with Bekka’s scent.

                “This gay chicken you and him are playing is killing my social life,” she says. “I may take a vacation soon just so you two can spend some…alone time.”

Kirk squeaks. It is a product of his transformation that he hates the most-notwithstanding the bloodlust. Bekka giggles and glides on her way. A vision of poise and loveliness.

(They are perfect for each other, don’t you think.)

Kirk shudders and returns to cataloging their mission.

(You can’t deny that.)

                “Shut up,” he whispers.

                (He only wanted the Bat. That’s all you’ll ever be to him.)

Kirk stops. He needs to get to his lab and make some plasma. Then…he will feel all right.

 

 

The call from Will comes in that night.

When Kirk has time to think about it he was an idiot for not discovering the truth earlier.

How Tina seemed colder in the years. How Will knew about Victor’s death in the first place.

In the end, he should not have been surprised to see two of the people he loved most in the world…one was dead…and the other didn’t want him….

 

Jeremy wanted him at least for a litter while.

 

How long before Hernan abandons him too?

* * *

 

 In the quieter aftermath of Will Magnus’ plot, Kirk can enjoy his life for the moment. He watches that Lois Lane woman recanting all her previous assumptions like that will wipe the slate clean of her badgering them for the last year.

                “Next she’ll be sending you selfies,” he says to Hernan.

“We need to shake things up a bit,” Hernan says. Kirk stands and listens. “No more politics. No more killing.” Hernan turns to him with a smile on his face.

Kirk, arms crossed stands unimpressed. “Seriously?” Because this cannot be the same man from ten years ago or last week. Hernan shrugs and says to think about it. Kirk rolls his eyes in fondness at the ridiculous man he…..well Bekka’s practically said it.

Speak of the devil.

                “It’s time already,” Hernan says. He goes to the caped Bekka and gazes into her eyes. A small spike of jealousy hits Kirk, but not as bad.

                “What’s going on?” he asks.

                “Our beautiful Bekka is leaving us,” Hernan says.

                “Why?” Kirk wants to know.

Bekka smirks at him, but then the expression becomes forlorn.

                “The problems of my past linger in ways yours do not. It’s time I went back and faced them,” she said determination in her voice.

                “By yourself,” Kirk states.

                “She has a co-conspirator,” Hernan says and turns arms crossed.

Luthor appears in his chair. The conversation goes on as Kirk understands his ex-professor’s reasoning. Often, he’s wondered what it would be like to leave this planet and search for others. Then again, his source of nourishment is limited even with the fake plasma. He comes back and bristles as Bekka looks in Hernan’s eyes. Kirk wishes he could be jealous of her and soothe Hernan’s heartache but instead he soothes his breathing to watch as they lean in…she kisses him on the cheek!

                “You two better get smart before I return,” she says bemused.

                “Now, Bekka, don’t make them think too hard,” Luthor says.

Kirk has lost this conversation, but follows as the orb floats out of Luthor’s chair.

                “It contains all the Kryptonian files. Incredible feats in medicine, technology, and the culture is quite enlightened,” Luthor says. He smirks like a joke has been uttered.

Kirk furrows his brow, still uncertain of the joke.

                “Wasn’t this supposed to be under the government’s watch?” Hernan asks, brow quirked.

                “You know how things get lost in bureaucracy,” Luthor says. “Be a real hero, Superman and use this gift for betterment of man.”

Hernan looks at him. Kirk looks back. His heart beats, despite what others believe. It is slower since his transformation. The way Hernan looks at him-hopeful, doubtful, relieved- makes his almost useless heart beat faster. Hernan continues to look at him and smiles-the one smile reserved for a good decision.

                “Thanks Lex,” he says.

                “Ready to go,” Bekka says and unsheathes her sword.

                “Please, my dear, allow me,” Lex responds.

A boom tube opens and they disappear.

For the first time in months, Kirk is alone with Hernan.

It unsettles him.

                “We should get started on that—”

                “Kirk,” Hernan says. Kirk swallows. “If what Luthor says is true…about my people and their sciences….From what the government didn’t take, well I don’t know how, but if what Luthor says is true and if we can decode the data in this sphere then Kirk….Kirk you’ll be cured,” he pauses. “Of everything.”

Kirk stares at him. This is what he wants. What he’s been after for years with Will and Tina…..that was a lie from the start. Because Will believed he wanted Tina. Because like everyone Will thought of Kirk as something other. He should get on this now. Grab Hernan’s hand and run down to the lab with Hernan at his side not Jeremy who only used him or Will who lied. Hernan who is his friend. He should feel elated, excited, and grateful to this man.

He is grateful. Always has been for Hernan, but the thought of being human and cured makes his stomach sink.

                (You are useless without the Bat. He’ll leave you like the rest once you are **you.** Like your parents and past lovers.)

                “Kirk?” Hernan says.

Kirk realizes he’s moved away from Hernan. They stand on opposites of the common room. Hernan holds the orb delicately worry etched in his face.

                “Not yet,” Kirk says. “At least not for that.”

Hernan stares at him-regret?-and hides the orb in his impossibly large cloak.

                “Well then, I’ll order out for us. Who knows? Maybe the delivery boy can come up the tower without being trampled by protesters,” Hernan says. He chuckles lightly.

Kirk nods, he thinks.

* * *

 

It’s been some weeks since Bekka’s departure. The people have yet to recant their support; if anything they seem to finally view the league as heroes.

No one’s forgotten the deaths or the government’s involvement, but they seem to have boiled it to a sad tragedy that cannot be changed. Kirk thinks that is the optimist in him about this whole situation.

He’s in the lab again with the alien data Hernan decrypted for him. The data is for a type of holding cell; _Phantom Zone_ is the title. Hernan said it seemed interesting. Kirk agrees. A way to capture villains and put them in a place where they cannot harm anyone…that is a dream.

His stomach cramps. He growls in contempt.

                “Fuck,” he curses. When was last he ate?

                “You shouldn’t lose track of time, amigo,” Hernan says.

Kirk does not need to turn. He holds out his hand. A vial of human blood drops in his hand.

                “Where does it come from?” Kirk asks. “You’ve never told me where you get the blood and I imagine Waller would use that as leverage if Superman stole from blood banks. So, since we’ve been friends for a long time I would like to know.”

He spins to face Hernan in the chair. The alien stares back as if defiant. Kirk waits. He has patience.

Hernan remains silent as they stare off. Kirk analyzes his friend. In these transactions, when he has yet to feed, Kirk is usually beyond coherent thought but since the battle with Magnus…..he can control it.

                “Where it comes from shouldn’t matter. You have blood, which you need and I provide it. That is all,” Hernan says.

An anger swells in Kirk, much like the one from that night on the docks. This time he taps it down because he wants an answer. Kirk gets up to walk to Hernan. He hands the vial back.

                “Then return it,” Kirk says.

Hernan’s eyes flash red literally.

                “Kirk, drink it.”

Hernan pushes the vial to him. Kirk grabs the hand filled with inhuman strength. The sleeve catches up.

Kirk freezes.

Hernan freezes.

On the underside of his wrist is a healed scar. Kirk pulls up the sleeve to Hernan’s elbow. Three longer scars crisscross the man’s forearm and at his elbow bend is a set of puncture wounds from needles. 

                “eh…”

                “I suppose you know.”

Hernan disappears. The vial is back in Kirk’s hand. He looks down at it. He crushes the glass. The shards puncture his pale skin and dark blood dripping. From the vial or him?

* * *

 

Hernan has left the tower. Kirk figured to his sister’s house. There’s more vials of blood in the fridge and his fake plasma he makes. Kirk spends the next two days alone.

The first day he sits in front of the monitors for anything. Leads can only do so much and they are supposed to operate within the law (of the United States) and he has no immediate crisis to oversee. He spends a better part of several hours searching for anything that attracts Hernan.

By 3a.m. Kirk quits and heads to Gotham. There is always a crime going on in Gotham even a small carjacking would suffice. He stops those, plus a robbery, arson, and by accident insurance fraud.

The tower’s empty and Waller has yet to ask for them back. Kirk returns to his old lab. It’s changed since last with Jeremy and Hernan’s hauled enough shelves and furniture in there to name it cozy for a bat. The shelves hold his compounds and failed attempts at a cure along with more materials for fake plasma.

There’s no windows. Darkness is better for him.

                _Don’t get married Kirk. Wives will protect the life out of you._

_No worries I’ve pretty much given up on eHarmony._

Kirk sits on the futon. Hernan insisted. It’s blue. A nice shade of blue.

                “I’ve pretty given up on a lot,” he says.

Time passes. Kirk loses track of it. Idleness was never safe for him.

(Are you waiting for him to find you again?)

                “No.”

The bulb blew out. The room is in total darkness. Kirk scratches his throat. An itch begins.

(Now you know, idiot. Is knowledge worth it? Will it keep you warm at night? Knowing Superman bled for you.)

Kirk twitches in his seat. There’s a tear in the futon. His knuckles are white from doing so.

He paces the small lab. At one point he bumps against a cabinet. A beaker falls and breaks. The sound is followed by silence. Kirk cannot stand it.

 (Of course there’s more blood out there. Remember those days. You were never hungry before him. Just return to your old self. You are the hunger. Feed.)

                “Shut up,” Kirk screams.

He kicks the cabinets, shelves. Crashes reverberate in the small space. He tears at the woods, punches the wall until he knows he has bled. Kirk collapses on the floor and curls in fetal position.

                (You are still pathetic. Jeremy was right.)

                “No, no, no.”

                ( _For God’s sake, you’re a monster-and I accepted you.)_

                “Please, no more,” Kirk pleads.

                (Go. Be the monster you are.)

                “No!”

Quiet. It’s gone. Kirk shakes in his position.

“….ah….hrrgh…..hm…..hernan….”

 

A loud crash from the ceiling. Light pours in blinding Kirk.

He can smell him. He does not move as Hernan grabs him.

                “Shh,shh,” Hernan says.

* * *

 

_Kirk’s in a dream. He cannot tell. Above him is Jeremy-shirtless and looking down at him._

_“Good boy,” he says, huskily. “Good boy, Kirk.”_

_Kirk can’t breathe. He’s dying. He’s finally dying._

_His eyes change-the room changes. Kirk is face down. Above him is grunting noises. His body rocks_

_“Don’t leave me…”_

_Who is that?_

_“Don’t leave me,…..please don’t leave me”_

_It’s him._

_The grunting gets louder._

_“Oh, what a good boy you are. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine—”_

_The word chants on. Hurting. Everything pains him the voice pains him. The hands on his hips dig into his skin. Kirk whines._

_The rocking stops. The grunting too. The hands are gone._

_Kirk lies on the ground._

_Darkness. There is the darkness. Kirk welcomes it lets it cover him. Engulf him. No one awaits him outside it. Nothing wants him._

_“Amigo.”_

_Nothing wants him._

_“Amigo.”_

_Nothing wants him._

_“Amigo!”_

_Nothing wants him._

_“I need you. We need each other.”_

**_He_ ** _wants him. **He** needs him._

* * *

 

Kirk comes to; he takes stock of his surroundings. He is back in his room at the tower. His knuckles are bandaged and there’s bandaging on his arms. Kirk rolls on his side and grunts. Hernan is in the chair across from him. He does not have a book or a phone. He just stares in front of him. Kirk looks in his direction. Kirk’s walls are bare except for a poster of the periodic table. That’s where Hernan’s gaze is.

                “I thought you would be repulsed, by the fact I’ve been giving you my blood,” Hernan says monotone.

                “Why?” Kirk asks.

                “Because it is alien. And it didn’t start out that way. The first few bags I stole from blood drives. I stopped for obvious reasons. Then I gave you mine. It was not much. A few drops or a pint were nothing. My blood rejuvenates faster than a human’s,” Hernan finishes.

                “But,” Kirk begins. He tries to arrange the pillow. Hernan hands are there to fluff it and fix it to where he can see his face. “How did you do it? I’ve seen Bekka’s sword bounce off you.”

Hernan grins at this and looks at Kirk. It’s a look of mischief and friendship.

                “The government of this nation may have had my ship, but they still don’t know everything,” Hernan says. “I found a rock in my travels. It glowed green and made me feel sick for the first time in my life. I was able to extract a small piece before passing out. Dr. Emil Hamilton, a man I met in Israel, owed me a favor. I kept the piece under wraps in my pack but still felt it. I arrived at Hamilton’s lab not before long. I passed out. Afterwards, he awoke me and offered me food. First time feeling hunger too. I told him of the rock in my pack and he gladly tested the rock’s glow-radiation-and deduced it was like me.”

                “Like you?” Kirk brows furrowed.

                “Yes. The same radiation signals I gave off where in the rock too. Kirk,” Hernan leaned in. “It’s from the same planet as me. Lead is the only way I can withstand being in the same room as it. I went back with a full suit of lead made by Hamilton and extracted the rest. We fashioned the rock into surgical knives and needles. And a bullet in a lead case,” Hernan, a note of excitement in his voice.

Kirk stares. “You have a bullet that can kill you.”

                “Not me. If there are others like me who…aren’t agreeable,” Hernan says. He returns his gaze to the periodic table.

                “The knives and needles?”

                “In case I ever needed surgery. Or for this.” Hernan gestures between them.

Kirk closes his eyes.

                “I truly care for you. Despite what Lane and others think,” Hernan continues. Kirk keeps his eyes closed. “You are not a dog to me, Kirk. You’ve been an ally and friend. You know more about me than others. I’m glad you stayed with me. I’m glad you’ve decided to follow me again. It’s not a debt you owe me. I want to make that clear. Helping you was my choice because….” Kirk opens his eyes. Tears roll down Hernan’s face. He wipes with his sleeve. “I care about you, mi amigo. Please don’t doubt that.”

With that said, the presence of Hernan leaves. Kirk never opens his eyes. The door shuts behind the Man of Steel and Kirk is once again alone.

He may prefer this.

(You liar.)

* * *

 

Kirk controlled his breaths. Hernan would be listening. Hernan would also be sulking in his room. Kirk licked his lips and quietly entered. The bathrobe felt odd to wear alone until he heard-“What have you done to me Kirk?” moaned out by Hernan.

Kirk felt hysterical at thtat point. He didn’t know.

                “I don’t know,” he said into the dark room.


	3. Illegal Alien

Hernan sits back in Valentina’s sofa. His nephew plays Mario on the screen and offers his tio a console.

                “Not now, _mi sobrino_ ,” Hernan exhales out. “I’m tired.”

                “Tired,” a soft rings. The wheels _squee_ as Val comes into the refurbished den. “I never thought I’d see the day, _hermano._ Has the great Superman finally met his match,” Val teases and makes fangs with her fingers.

Hernan feels hot for a moment. Manuel giggles.

                “Quiet you,” Hernan says and pokes his nephew in the shoulder. The boy still has his eyes on the screen as Mario falls off course. “No,” he says to Val.

                “Oh, well. If you didn’t drag your damn feet so much, then I’d have an extra plate for the table by now. Really, Hernan, what is keeping you from making a move on your man,” Val says.

Hernan stares at his sister. He can’t lie to her as she can’t to him. They know each other too much and have always been a duo.

                “Nothing anymore. Bekka’s left us and I don’t have a beard.”

                “Huh. Tio, your beard’s on your face,” Manuel says. The game finished.

Hernan glances at Val for help. Val smiles.

                “Manny, go check on your papa. I left him alone with his computer and I don’t want him starting a project before dinner,” Val says.

                “Okay, mama.”

Manuel jumps off the sofa and runs out. Hernan grins. He remembers his enthusiasm to be the one to fetch their padre’ for dinner.

                “He’s grown since last I saw him,” Hernan says.

                “Don’t change the subject, _burro,_ tell me your love troubles and I’ll give you advice to ignore,” she says.

                “I’ve given you what I have, Val. Bekka’s gone and it’s awkward.”

Val gives him an unimpressed brow. She crosses her arms. Even in a wheel chair, she is imposing. Of course, that is what makes her a good teacher.

                “There’s….” He stops. What can he say to her? “Val, remember I heal faster than humans and that I’m virtually immortal.”

Val nods an amused smirk on her lips.

                “I’ve been giving my blood to Kirk. Without him knowing,” he says.

                “And he knows,” Val finishes. “How’d he find out? I assume something unpleasant happened because you’ve come here unannounced.”

                “You can say that. He saw the scars and puncture wounds from all the times I’ve had to feed him. _Tonto_ , always forgetting to check the time,” Hernan says. He feels a fond smile curve his lips.

                “I have my own _tonto,_ and I can’t imagine a day where I don’t call him out on his messiness,” she says. “Hernan, you should tell this poor man soon how you feel. Ten years is absurd for pining.”

                “I know. Later, when he’s not mad at me. Kirk holds grudges,” Hernan says.

                “Superman afraid of his future husband’s wrath. That’s worth at least a million views on YouTube,” she teases. Val redirects her chair and rolls back up the ramp to the kitchen.

Hernan remains on the sofa and relaxes into the cushions. Kirk will be better in a few days.

* * *

 

_“No.”_

_Kirk holds himself tightly restraint in his muscles._

_“I’ve fed enough.” He grits through his fangs. “I can survive another day-without more blood. Without taking another life.” He rocks on his perch on the church’s roof. The rain hides him this night. “I CAN SURVIVE!” Kirk wails as a lightning bolt illuminates the sky._

_Hernan cannot stand to watch his friend so miserable and comes to aid him._

_“You can—and you will,” he says. “Not easy—is it Kirk?”_

_“Have you come here… to mock me?” Kirk growls at him fangs bared._

_“Never,” he says softly. Hernan floats closer to Kirk. “I would never hurt you, mi amigo.”_

_Hernan reaches out and caresses Kirk’s cheek. The man shudders. Suddenly, Kirk leaps off the roof at Hernan. They because of the surprise, but Hernan cushions the landing onto a gargoyle. Kirk straddles his waist. Hernan smirks and grabs the man’s leather clad ass. Kirk leans in close his breath on Hernan’s neck._

_“Feed,” Hernan whispers. He exposes his neck more for Kirk._

_The man bites down. Water drops hits them and soon both men are soaked from the storm. Kirk lick his neck when he’s done. He lifts his head. There’s a sweet smile mixed in the blood on his mouth._

_“You are delicious, Hernan,” Kirk moans._

_Hernan caresses his new lover’s face. He puts his thumb in Kirk’s mouth and feels tiny licks._

_“And so are you, Kirk,” Hernan breathes._

_He brings his beautiful creature down for a kiss. Blood on both sets of lips. Hernan grinds against Kirk’s open thighs. Kirk moans louder._

                “Hernan!”

Hernan shoots up from the sofa bed. He sees Val staring at him a blush darkening her tanned skin.

                “Something, huah, wrong, _hermana_?” Hernan yawns out.

Val quirks a brow. “No, but you should change and get in the shower before Manny and Franz get down here.”

Val gestures to him. Hernan is confused until he shifts in the bed and feels the erection.

                “Oh,” he says. Hernan blushes. Vestiges of the dream return to him and the monster between his legs twitches. “I will.”

Val nods, equally uncomfortable. Hernan supposes he must have been moaning if Val came down here.

 

Hernan does as Val told him and takes a shower. Ice cold.

* * *

 

The tower’s vacant. Hernan hears no life forms except for the moth that gets stuck in the lights. His x-ray vision reveals the same. He floats 35 feet away from his home. He checks the lab again. No one.

Hernan turns his sights onto Gotham across the bay. The dark city’s quiet for the night. Lackluster.

He flies toward it. Kirk had the habit of surprising him whenever he entered Gotham. Five miles of sludge infested water and Kirk should be jumping at him by the third old warehouse. Hernan flies twice in the whole city; he spins by Kirk’s old haunts, including the Gothic church.

Long ago, he had promised Kirk not to listen to the man’s heart beat. It is easier to do in the city than close quarters. He hears it always, but it thrums with the thousands below him so for now Hernan keeps his promise.

Hernan stops when he sees some thugs jacking a car.

                “Hmph. Truly, this is the future of crime,” he mutters.

Hernan lands with a flourish two feet from the hoodied…teenagers.

                “Oh, shit,” says the taller one. He runs off before his compatriot can remove the jack.

The other falls on his ass and his eyes bulge under the ridiculous hood.

                “Do-don’t kill me…” the boy whimpers.

Hernan’s loses his defensive stance. He lends out his hand to the boy. Shaking terribly, he takes the offered appendage; Hernan lifts him. The boy’s hood falls in that instant. He’s one of Gotham’s lower class citizens Hernan guesses from his unkempt dreadlocks and the fact the hoodie he wears is two sizes too big. 

                “Go home, _estupido._ Your mother’s probably worried about you,” he tells him.

The boy-stubby nose, brown eyes-glances at the jack.

                “I’ll take care of it,” Hernan says. “Go home before the cops come looking.”

The boy nods and start off.

                “One more thing,” Hernan calls out. The boy stops. “Find a new friend.”

The boy shrugs and runs off.

 

Hernan removes the jack and walks down the street. Kirk’s been known to show up when he is off his game as he dumps the jack in an alley dumpster. He walks some more but still no sign of the Bat.

He listens for Kirk’s heartbeat for the moment concern lacing his rationale. Since the transformation, it is slower than the average human and its uniqueness means Hernan pinpoints the sound quickly.

He halts on the street. The _tip-tap-tip-tap_ of Kirk’s heart spikes higher to _thwa-tap-thwa-tap._

“Kirk,” Hernan whispers.

Hernan flies up above the city and uses his super vision. He scopes further than before seeing the city and all the secrets it holds. He looks out to the woods. Kirk’s lab.

The man’s curled in a ball. Hernan hears him—“…..hernan….”

In seconds, Hernan smashes into the same room as Kirk. The man is in the corner fetal position and blood on his suit. Carefully, Hernan floats to his friend. Kirk does not move as Hernan embraces him.

Kirk squeaks in fright shivering in his arms.

                “Shh,shh,” Hernan says. A lump lodges his throat.

* * *

 

 Kirk’s healing has increased. However, compared to him and Bekka it is still weak. Hernan grabs the dusty med kit from Kirk’s bathroom and starts to bandage the man. He has abrasions on his arms. Hernan puts antiseptic on them. Kirk does not stir. He wraps the bandages on the man and goes to the bigger problem-the knuckles. They are openly weeping from Kirk’s abuse and have glass embedded in one hand.

                “Oh, _mi amor_ ,” Hernan breathes. “What have you done?”

Hernan gets to work. Piece by piece, he removes the glass from Kirk’s fingers, even going so far as to use his microscopic vision to find the minutia traces. When he finishes, he cleans the hands of dried blood. Kirk licked them. He can see the patterns on the fingers. Hernan finishes automatically.

Kirk’s suit is tattered. Hernan rips it with ease. The man has several identical suits in his closet.

He finds sweatpants and the old Gotham U t-shirt. Hernan dresses Kirk.

This should be a happy occasion. He is finally seeing Kirk undressed in front of him-that time with Imperiex not counting-and yet here they are. Kirk unconscious and breathing shallowly as he pulls up the outfit on him so he won’t be cold.

Once done, Hernan places him on the bed and tucks him in like his madre used to do.

                “ _Ay, mi amor. Como puedo ayudarte? Como puede aliviar el dolor?”_

Hernan leans down. Kirk’s face is unmarred, deeply asleep, and breaths even. He kisses him on the forehead.

* * *

 

Kirk wakes two days later.

Hernan hears his heart before anything. He doesn’t have to look at him. The periodic table has become fascinating for what he is about to reveal.

 

He walks out the room because Kirk needs time. And he will always give his bat time to think, to analyze, and to have some peace in his life.

 

 

Days pass. Hernan checks in on his friend and removes Kirk’s bandages. They talk in small doses. About the murders caused by Magnus and the scientists the world has lost. Their new approach to the league as a force for good and not domination. Perhaps seeking new members. The weather and such.

Hernan had brewed a batch of fake plasma for Kirk while he was unconscious. It is mixed with animal blood. Kirk says it tastes gamey but otherwise more filling. Hernan nods.

They go on like this for days.

 

One night, Hernan stared out his window. He can clearly with the miniscule light provided by the stars out his window and he knew that Kirk had fallen asleep again or at least meditating. For he could hear his heart beat. Soothing for now, like a pleasant hum in the back of Hernan’s mind. It comforted him that he could do small things for his… friend. Yes, friend. That word left a wrench in his gut he would have to get over for the future. Kirk needed him and that is what mattered.

Of course sulking alone in his room was good. Hernan turned in his king size bed for the third time. He missed the scent of his sister’s sofa couch already. His socked feet rubbed on the duvet and his belt almost got caught too. Hernan fixed it and sighed miserably. Hernan took deep breaths as he imagined another body in there with him. One not so small and delicate, but some bulk to it. A thinner frame came to mind and it molded to his like in advance and he would be melting in the other’s embrace all hard and silky skin. Pale as the moon for its nightly outings. Milky thighs wrapping around him as he brought them both to passion—he stopped. He shook. His erection back and prominent. Hernan sighed and sank face first on the pillows. He needed to stop this burning before checking on Kirk again in an hour. For the most part, he could dunk in the Antarctic Ocean to shrink it. But that stopped working some time ago.

“What have you done to me Kirk?” he moaned miserably.

“I don’t’ know,” Kirk whispered.

Hernan shot up in bed. Across the room the door was closed and he saw Kirk—Kirk dressed in a bathrobe with little to Hernan’s fantastic imagination.

“What—”

“I don’t’ know either,” Kirk admits. “I’m….I’m not good at this. Flirting, seducing. Hell, I was watching a YouTube clip earlier today on step by step to….do this.” He gestures to himself.

Hernan swallows his dry mouth.

“That is not so embarrassing,” he said. Flinched when he said it. “I meant you look ravishing—no, dammit, this isn’t easy for me.”

They stare at each other. Kirk’s ruby eyes catching the starlight. Hernan’s heart must skip a beat.

                “Bekka’s right,” Kirk says. “We are a couple of gay chickens.”

Hernan groans. That is the last thing he wishes to hear right now. Words are failing Hernan for the time being. Kirk edges closer in the darkness and sits at the edge of the bed opposite to Hernan.

“Just please don’t laugh,” Kirk says.

Kirk removes the robe slowly. Kirk reveals to be in a pair of panties.

                “Oh,” Hernan says. He moves to Kirk’s side. The man is holding himself.

                “They’re mine,” Kirk says. “I-I bought them a while ago. When I changed some of the fibers in my suits.”

                “I remember Bekka teasing me about shopping with you. I thought it was a ploy to get a rise from me.”

                “She never helped, but mistook one of my mine for hers,” Kirk admits. A light blush covers his cheeks.

Hernan smiles. Kirk had come out of his shell-for him-but he was still that shy Luthor boy whom everyone overlooked. Hernan leaned forward and placed his hand on Kirk’s shoulder. Innocent enough. He shuddered internally at the smoothness of the skin.

                “Hernan…” Kirk choked.

He removed his hand and felt sick.

                “I am sorry, amigo. I did not want to—“

                “Don’t stop.”

Hernan plunged forward. He covered Kirk in an embrace. He nuzzled into Kirk’s neck and sighed. Kirk returned the act with enthusiasm. The man shivered and Hernan knew there was hesitation. And some consent to be talked over.

                “I have yet to woo you properly, Kirk. I should take you out for dinner and a kiss first before jumping into my bed,” Hernan said sultry. Kirk melted and huffed. His muscles and breathing loosened.

                “Hernan, I believe the blood you’ve given me is enough and I hate being social.” Kirk shifted for them to look into each other’s eyes. “A kiss is in order.”

Hernan swooped in; a chaste affair as opposed to their positions and the heat in Hernan’s stomach and groin. Kirk gasped after Hernan let go.

                “That was nice,” Kirk said, eyes fluttering.

                “Only nice. No, mi amigo, it must be phenomenal. Explosive. Mind blowing,” Hernan stated, forehead against Kirk’s. “I will make it better next time.”

Kirk squeaked. Hernan chuckled lightly.

                “I hate that,” Kirk said.

                “I love it,” Hernan said. “I’ve loved it since I discovered it.”

Kirk groans.

They stay as that, breathing each other in and holding on for dear life. Hernan shifts them so they lie on the bed together with Kirk on top of him. The dream from his sister’s house returns. Hernan bites the inside of his cheek to calm his racing heart.

                “I can sense your pulse,” Kirk said. “It’s speeding like a rocket.” Kirk lifts himself to look down at Hernan. Hernan gulps. “Are you-well, damn, are you sure you don’t want more tonight?”

Hernan closes his eyes. An old memory returns. An unpleasant one.

* * *

 

                _“Don’t!” shrieked the Batman._

_Hernan flew a few feet away from the man. They were outside of an old Gothic church. The man-Kirk-crouched in fetal position on the flying buttress and shook. Hernan had wanted to surprise his newest friend with a hug from behind. He liked this Kirk fellow. A lot. The blood he drank made him so grateful that the man had agreed to do everything Hernan asked. It made it easy for the bat’s intelligence to be put to good use. Now though, seeing him much like the night they met-crouched, feral-saddened him. More so that Kirk gave off a sense of fear._

_“Kirk,” he said gently. “Mi amigo.”_

_No response. Hernan rubbed the back of his neck. It has been a while since he was uncertain. He placed the fresh blood bag on the buttress and ascended higher until—_

_“Wait! Don’t leave me!” Kirk screamed. “I’m sorry. I-I’ll do whatever you want, but-but don’t leave me alone…..please.”_

_Hernan floated slowly down to his friend. The face was wet with tears and Kirk’s ruby eyes had remorse in them._

_“Kirk,” he said, “what has this world done to you?”_

_“Not enough,” he said._

_They stayed that way. Apart but together. Kirk cried and hiccupped. Eventually, Hernan offered the blood again. He drank it slowly as if to savor it. Hernan did not like that._

_“I have not asked much about your past,” Hernan started. “If only that I respect you and believe you have the right for secrets.”_

_Kirk listened head bowed._

_“Kirk, look at me.” He didn’t. “Okay. Just remember, you have my trust. I will be your confessional for all the demons in you. Nothing can change that.”_

_Hernan waited. He flew a foot back if Kirk needed more space. The man wailed softly. Hernan wanted to touch him in that moment and comfort the poor creature._

_“I was lonely,” Kirk rasped out. “I-I hadn’t been touched by another in years. I thought he cared. I thought he was my friend. He saw me the same way everyone else did. He used me.”_

_Rage blared in Hernan’s eyes and for an instant they matched Kirk’s._

_“I killed him. I’m still lonely,” Kirk admits._

_Hernan sighs and rubs his temples._

_“No, you’re not. You have me. And I’m not using you,” Hernan said. He meant it._

* * *

 

                “No, Kirk. Mi amor. I want what you will give me. And I think, for tonight, this,” he tightens his hold on Kirk. “This right here is perfect.”

The small tension in Kirk leaves completely. He places his head under Hernan’s chin.

Silence for the time being. Hernan concentrates his hearing only on Kirk’s heartbeat.

 

                “Hernan?” Kirk asked sometime later.

                “Hmm,” Hernan said.

                “I love you,” he stated. Kirk’s hand grips tightly on Hernan’s shirt.

                “Oh, mi amor,” Hernan said bemused. “I love you too. Though, when we visit my sister I tell her that I confessed first.”

Kirk huffed and gently slapped Hernan’s bicep. This time, Kirk fell asleep as Hernan rubbed circles in his back. His amor’s heart beat steady and beautiful.

 

**Epilogue**

Kirk twiddles with his utensils. Hernan takes a sip from his wine glass.

                “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kirk says for the umpteenth time. He is in jeans, sneakers, and a sweater. He wears the red tinted shades inside. Hernan sits beside him in a collared shirt and slacks. “I mean, your sister’s fine, but her family—in public--is a bit extreme.”

They sit at Mint a casual nice restaurant in Metropolis. Hernan hums and looks out the window. They have parked and Franz is busy lowering Val on the road. Franz did turn out to be a good man, like his padre.

Hernan leans in close to Kirk.

                “If you keep fidgeting and being nervous the whole staff will know who we are,” he whispers.

                “News flash, these ‘disguises’ aren’t inconspicuous,” Kirk hisses.

Hernan looks down at himself. The glasses are strange on him and he is not use to unkempt hair, but he tested this the day earlier. No one recognized in the park and people even shoved into him. Kirk too should not worry for the public only knows him in his mask. Without it, he looks like a Goth punk who barely gets sun. The glasses too aid that image.

                “I believe you are more nervous about meeting the family,” Hernan teases.

Kirk stares holes in the menu.

                “Val already has our wedding planned,” Hernan says. “And Manuel is excited to meet Batman.”

                “Won’t they be disappointed when…” Kirk trails off.

                “No.” He grabs his lover’s hand under the table. “Because you are spectacular and far more than I deserve.”

Kirk squeezes back. A tiny squeak of joy escapes him.

Hernan waves to his family when they enter. Franz wheels Val as Manuel rushes to them.

                “Wow,” the boy says in wonder. He smiles at Kirk who blushes lightly. “You’re Batman. You’re the coolest one,” he whispers.

                “Er, thanks,” Kirk says.

Hernan smiles and chuckles warmly.

                “Made it,” Val says.

Franz parks her and he sits.

Suddenly, Hernan’s ears blare with the sound of sirens. He shoots and grabs his family, Kirk following him, as an explosion erupts and shakes the restaurant. People scream and panic. Food is tossed everywhere. Franz holds Val close as Hernan and Kirk let go. Manuel is in a death grip around his mother.

                “I think we have to reschedule,” Hernan says.

                “Sure,” Val says after a moment. “Go do what you do best.” A small secret smile comes to her face.

Hernan nods and grabs Kirk’s hand. Kirk will always go with him, but now he can touch him. And this more than enough.


End file.
